Six Months
by SirIntegrity
Summary: After a routine check-up, Integra is given a five-month notice before her death. But she doesn't feel like she's getting worse...in fact, she'd never been so capable. R
1. Month One

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Integra huffed, examining the ruins. How many times was Maxwell going to let Anderson cross the line into _their_ territory?

There was no one available to do damage control; there had been a rash of young vampires frolicking all over England and threatening to spread to other close-by countries. So, armed with her work clothes, rubber gloves, and an army of cleaning supplies, Sir Integra got down on her hands and knees and began to clean.

The blood was still undried... Though she was sure most of it was Alucard's, she got plenty of satisfaction from the fact Anderson had been beaten back to Ireland. She swore under her breath as she cut her wrist on a stray chunk of glass. She tossed it into a spare bucket and went back to work. Compared to what abrasions she was used to, a scratch was hardly even something to dwell on.

Stained glass windows centuries old: 10,000 pounds…each, she mused as she assessed the damage, mopping up the pools of crimson with rags. New tiled floor: 30 pounds per square feet. Repaired walls: 1,000 pounds. Miscellaneous…she'd just round it down to 5,000. Good thing Alucard didn't come with a price tag bigger than a few civilian casualties…

It took her a good six hours to clean up the actual mess and on the flight back, she made orders and apologies. By the time she got home, she was ready to collapse on her bed.

Which she did, happily.

**III**

The next few days, Integra spent in bed. She had chills and fevers in turn, her body aching, her head pounding and occasionally vomiting. As much as she hated lethargy, the mysteriously appearing flu wouldn't allow her to do _anything_. She cut Walter off every time he tried to voice his concerns.

After three days, she was back to her old self, and the illness was pushed out of her mind.


	2. Month Two

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Integra rubbed her temples. A headache had been gradually building all morning, and now had finally formed in all of its painful vengeance. She wasn't sure what had brought it about…could've been a lot of things. She sighed and continued reading, half squinting at the screen. It took her a bit to catch herself and when she did, she sighed, reaching for her address. She supposed she was due for an eye appointment anyway.

The earliest they could schedule her was in two weeks; not too bad considering. She made a note on her calendar and went through the rest of the day uneventfully. By the end of the week, though, it was hard to read at all. Everything was blurry and out of focus and her head pain was only mounting.

"Perhaps you should see if you could move it closer?" Walter suggested after he caught her rubbing her forehead. She took a deep breath of the aroma as he set her tea in front of her, a pill of ibuprofen on the side.

"I doubt they could," she grumbled, popping the pill in and taking a sip of tea.

"Well, it is a bit of an emergency. We can't have you running around blind," he pointed out. Integra smirked.

"That would be pretty bad," she admitted.

**IIII**

"Better or worse?"

"…worse."

"Better or worse?"

"…worse."

"Better or worse?"

"'bout the same."

She hated optometrist appointments, ever since that first one at age five. This one was no exception. Dr. Jacobs finally allowed her to pull away from the mechanical lens viewer, looking quizzically at her.

"…have you lost weight?" Integra shook her head.

"Not significantly. Why are you asking me this?" He was a little old and content with his wife to be hitting on her. He pursed his lips.

"Nothing, it's just occasionally when someone loses a significant amount of weight, their vision improves," he motioned to the eye chart, "You've improved three lines."

"Three…lines?" She hadn't been able to see that much since her teenage years.

She glanced at him.

"What else could cause it?" She asked, feeling a bit of trepidation. Dr. Jacobs shook his head.

"Could be a lot of things; I'm not sure."

Within the next week, as she waited for her new glasses, she found herself using her current ones less and less. After nearly twenty years, she had gained 20/20 vision almost overnight.

"Been eating your carrots?" Walter asked, trying to make light of the confusing turn of events.

"Apparently so," she murmured, pulling out a cigar and her lighter. She lit it, took a drag…and choked on it. She coughed the fumes out, shaking her head. The taste…the _smell_…

"Are you alright?" Walter was at her side, looking ready to pound her back. She nodded, blinking the water out of her eyes.

"I'm fine," she croaked, glancing at the cigar. The usually soothing scent now revolted her to the point of nausea.

Without a second chance, she snuffed it out in her ashtray.

Random ailments kept striking her; much like the cigars she could no longer smoke. Her teeth and gums ached. Everything seemed louder and sharper. Her appetite had decreased and her sense of the weight of an object was distorted. Most alarming was Alucard's increased presence; he hung around for no particular reason other than to watch her.

"Something's wrong," he finally spoke up. She turned to him, trying to smother the anxiety his statement caused her. To a monster who shrugged of his head being blown up and who had burned infants alive without a qualm, "wrong" was synonymous with "apocalyptic".

He shifted, leaning up against the wall.

"You're different. And I can feel it." Every word carried importance. Integra glanced away.

"I'm glad not to have to wear glasses anymore," she commented. Alucard frowned.

"You can't ignore what's going on," he growled. Integra grit her teeth and, as much as she hated to admit it, he was right.

**III**

Integra leaned her back against the table, Walter by her side and Alucard off in a corner. The clock seemed deafening as it ticked off the seconds in the silence.

All three turned as Dr. Trevelyan came in, his face unable to hide his concern. He turned to her and she straightened, bracing herself.

"What is it?" She asked brusquely. He looked her in the eyes.

"We found something cancerous in the blood work."

Cancer… Strangely, the blow wasn't much to her. There was still a chance, then; it couldn't be too far along yet and-

"Cancerous," Alucard repeated the word, "…but not cancer."

Dr. Trevelyan gave a nod.

"Right. The abnormal cells we identified in your blood work don't match any of the diseases or viruses in our system. We're beginning an investigation of causes we may have overlooked."

Integra glanced away. She had been ready for cancer, almost hoping it was. Leukemia seemed like cake after dealing with the undead for a decade. But now there was a daunting question mark, seeming to taunt her with its vagueness. The known she could deal with efficiently; the unknown was a bit of a thorn in her side.

"What are the characteristics?" Walter asked, a hint of pleading in his tone. Dr. Trevelyan cleared his throat.

"Parasitic. These cells seem to be converting your own, quickly."

"How long?"

"A few months at best."

She adjusted her glasses, straightening up.

"I trust you to look further into this."

"Yes sir."

Walter followed her as she made her way to the door. She glanced back to see Alucard still where he had been standing, staring at Dr. Trevelyan. The poor doctor looked unnerved, but stood his ground. Alucard must be worried if he was lowering himself to talk to a human that wasn't herself or Walter.

**III**

Within the hour, the phone was ringing. She picked it up on the first ring.

"Miss Hellsing…" Dr. Trevelyan's voice was strangled. She leaned forward on her arms. He hesitated before speaking, "It's not just parasitic…it's vampiric."

Integra clenched her hand into a fist.

"Explain."

"Sir, it's exactly as I said. There's vampire blood in your system and it's working its way into your tissue."

The phone fell to the desk with a clatter. She covered her mouth as bile rose up her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the tears before they came.

"We'll begin treatment immediately."


	3. Month Three

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

She should be exhausted. She should be flat on her back, unable to summon enough energy to get out of bed. But instead, she had plenty of energy to move around, acting like nothing was happening inside her body.

Numerous cocktails of drugs had been shot into her in hopes of killing it like a cancer. None of them so much as touched the malicious cells, their progress unhindered.

"The good news is that we do have time. Not much, but there's a window," Dr. Trevelyan assured her.

Integra hated the almost-daily visits with her doctors. She appreciated their efforts and around-the-clock work, but that didn't make news any easier to hear or their tests any more bearable.

"It seems to be attacking your muscles first, hence the increased strength and improved eye-sight. It's still possible to cure."

"Until?"

"Until it gets into your bone marrow and starts using your own body against you," he murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose, "We were…afraid of putting too much strain on your body, but since it seems to already be rather resilient-"

"Do what you have to," she stated. He nodded.

"We'll start your radiation therapy this evening, then."

**III**

"I really don't like this approach, Miss Integra," Walter confided. Integra gave a passive shrug as she donned the medical gown.

"If the chemotherapy's not working, this is the next logical step," she insisted.

"Why don't they just put you under UV lights and _burn_ the cancer out? It can't be much dangerous than this."

"You're acting as though they're shoving me out into broad daylight," she set her normal clothes aside, looking into the worried face of her oldest friend and confidant, "Radiation is not sunlight. They can both burn, yes, but that's the end of their similarity. It'll be alright."

He sighed, glancing around the medical room as Integra proceeded to lie down on the padded bench in front of the machine.

"And where is Alucard? Surely he'd want to be let in on this."

"I sent him on a mission. He's been doing enough hovering lately as it is. I don't need him fretting over a common medical procedure due to his old-time superstitions." It was meant to be serious but Walter laughed lightly.

Truth be told, Integra was nervous. What happened if this didn't help either? Did they have some ultra-violet therapy back-up plan? She was sure the unholy virus would like _that_ option in the least. She hadn't yet surrendered to the possibility that she might actually become undead; she would fight against the threat until her heart's last beat.

Where had this even come from? She was always careful when giving Alucard and Seras treats… Perhaps some blood she had come into contact with… Walter took a seat to one side, keeping his face devoid of emotion now. She was grateful for that.

After a warning from the doctors, the machine whirred to life, approaching her as slowly as a legless ghoul. She closed her eyes and tried to relax. Even if it was a full-body scan, it shouldn't take too long.

There was a mild discomfort; one that shifting around couldn't get rid of. Then the discomfort grew into irritation, scratching underneath her skin. Then, alarmingly, pain. Sharp pain. Integra grit her teeth, trying not to let Walter know how much the radiation was bothering her. He was already on edge about the treatment.

Scalding, like a hand on a hot stove. Searing through her. Her hands clenched as her muscles tightened. It started with moaning, but quickly became screaming as she was certain she was on fire.

"Stop it! Stop the damn thing!" Walter yelled. It didn't.

One leg lashed out, smacking the machine aside as easily as a football. She gasped, staring uncomprehendingly at the radiation technology, broken like a cheap toy, some part of her knowing that she had done that.

**III**

"Apparently I missed quite the session," Alucard grumbled. Integra snorted, rubbing at her leg.

"It's a pity my skin hasn't caught up to my strength yet."

Thankfully she hadn't broken anything, but there was a bruise nearly the length of her shin to show for her trouble. Alucard pushed her plate a little closer to her.

"Did it help?"

"Not at all. I'm sore from the waist down, have a few burns, and have apparently only aggravated this virus further."

Her fork poked at a bit of broccoli. Walter had tried everything to tempt her waning appetite; the high iron and high sodium diet had been working to at least guarantee one good meal in her stomach every night. But tonight even the practically-raw meat and supremely salted vegetables weren't coaxing her.

"Master, I only have the utmost respect for you and remain your loyal unquestioning servant... But if you don't eat something I will be forced to pry your mouth open and make you swallow down every speck of food on your plate," Integra gave a half-hearted smirk and humored him by nibbling at the broccoli.

He was serious, of course. Dead serious. But Alucard's attempts of caring were reminiscent of his days as a military leader and heartless dictator. She had appreciated his rough care even back when she was the new head of Hellsing, her uncle's body hardly cold on the dungeon floor. In a world where hand-holding was synonymous with using the young teen, Alucard's brash honesty and snap-out-of-it attitude was refreshing.

She took a small bite, chewing it for a long time tastelessly.

"…what do you think about all of this?" She asked softly. He looked surprised at the question, but shook his head.

"I'm torn," he admitted, "Torn between empathizing with my master and reveling in the idea of her joining me in undeath."

Integra's stomach churned. At first she thought the food just wasn't settling well, but she realized she was just disgusted at the idea of becoming someone like _Alucard_.

"It would certainly bring up questions about dynamics," she mused. He glanced down at her hand.

"Why don't you finish eating your vegetables like a good little girl?

**III**

Even if she wasn't consciously making the decision, her biological clock was resetting itself from "human" to "vampire". She slept through any alarm, falling asleep sometime after dawn and coming to just before dusk. It wasn't the odd hours; it was the amount of sleep. She was used to getting four or less hours a night; now she was getting almost double. It was like she'd lapse into a coma for a short time, unable to rise.

So that was why Alucard had such a hard time rising from his coffin during the day.

Treatments were becoming more… Tailored. The UV tests had been disastrous, not even worth the screaming and pain. Silver, crosses, and Eucharist wafers brought on hives and burns, and garlic made her vomit her stomach's contents for the past four days. Nothing was making the pesky things go away.

Integra sipped at her tea, which was so laden with salt that a fish would have felt at home in it. Despite her personal struggles, work continued on. While evening meetings didn't bother the Round Table, they pissed the Vatican off to no end. She was praying that this would clear up before she'd have to "come out of the coffin".

Integra licked over her teaspoon, finding the mix of salt and metal oddly appealing. She read through a report, absentmindedly chewing on the spoon. By the time she realized what her mouth was doing, the spoon was little more than a warped scrap of steel. She casually tossed it into the garbage can, trying not to let it bother her.

Had it been only that one instance, she might've been able to forget it.

But there were other pieces of silverware she demolished, as well as her nail file, a couple of pens, a few lamps, and an ill-fated doorknob. Bits of her teeth tended to chip off, concerning her but she couldn't stop. She tried to hide it from the rest out of embarrassment, but eventually she was caught.

"Integra, what on earth are you doing?"

Integra froze up, pulling away from the roof of the car. She'd been waiting for Walter for only a few minutes, but apparently the lure of the chrome was too much. She glanced down guiltily.

"I…don't know."

Now they were sitting across from Dr. Trevelyan, Walter frowning at her and Alucard leaning casually against a wall. At least the doctor had the kindness to take the latest quirk in stride instead of laughing.

"There is something beneficial about this," he murmured offhandedly, "We're learning a great deal about the actual transformation, but in slow motion." Lovely, she was so glad she could be a guinea pig…

Dr. Trevelyan set down his papers, biting the inside of his cheek.

"As best as we can figure this compulsive metal chewing serves two purposes; it satisfies your cravings as a substitute to the metallic taste of blood as well as strengthens your jaws and refines your…fangs." He tried not to smile, "To put it into layman's terms, you're teething."

There was a brief silence as it sank in. Then Alucard snickered.

"That…is adorable."

"Shut it before I destroy your guns."

"With your baby vampire teeth."

"Really, if you can't behave then you can't come with anymore."

Walter tried to stifle a laugh. Dr. Trevelyan covered his mouth. Integra wanted to tell them off, but she just hid her face in her hands, laughing with tears rolling down her cheeks.

**III**

Integra's changing mind couldn't fathom what was so urgent she had to wake up at noon and get down to the labs for. It was shameful to admit, but she could hardly stay awake.

"You might want to take a seat," Dr. Trevelyan suggested. Integra gratefully sank down, rubbing at her eyes.

"Alright, what is it?" She grumbled.

"We've been comparing differing samples of vampire blood; some on file from previous exterminations, plus fresh samples from Officer Victoria and Alucard."

"Alucard?" She repeated, "I wasn't aware that he was going back to his lab rat days."

"He made an exception. Volunteered, even," Dr. Trevelyan frowned, "As you can imagine, there was quite the difference between the fledgeling and her master, based off of their eternal ages. The cells attacking you…they're not first-year material. These have been around for centuries, strengthening over time and trial."

"The point, doctor," she snapped. He took a deep breath.

"If it had been something of Seras's caliber, it probably would've been wiped out by the radiation therapy. But these are incredibly stubborn, and identical to the DNA found in Alucard's blood sample."

It had slipped so casually from him, so deliberately attempting to cushion the blow. Integra was grateful for taking Dr. Trevelyan's offer of a seat.

"Sir Integra…"

All hell broke loose in her mind. Flashes of thoughts, of images ran through with little coherence. Her finding her grandfather's notes on Alucard a week after the basement incident. Watching him come alive from the few drops of her blood. Seeing him riddled with Anderson's bayonets, head lobbed off, scripture barring him to that corridor, and yet reforming effortlessly. Her father claiming that Dracula was the greatest vampire to ever exist.

Now, as she sat there, his cells were slowly taking her over, devouring her humanity and taking away the few things she was allowed in this life.

"Sir!"

After Abraham's hard work…and her father's… After her own personal sacrifices to the Hellsing Organization...

She got up abruptly, turning on her heels and storming off. Hazily she recalled him yelling at her, but all she could focus on was getting away.

**III**

Muwahahaha, the not-so-twistical twist! Because why make life easy on Teggie? Please review.


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